Dripping Gandhi
Up to Tavistock Square again. Feeling slightly brighter today than of late. Lunch with Pat we walked to a restaurant called the Palms of Goa. Pat full of bounce, and in good spirits. A whiff of sulphur from the restaurant as we approached, and there was Spooner and his art director, and we were soon joined by Bob Nash who first hired me for my old Glamoursmith agency over 10 years ago. Nice to see them, and Spooner always glinting, but the agency gossip seems all a bit remote these days.
After work, still writing the unspeakable haemophilia document, met up with the old Mad dog, between heavy showers, by the dripping statue of Gandhi in the centre of Tavistock Square. Someone had put a little jar with two or three marigolds from the flower bed by his feet. Bob tetchy at first, but soon mellowed. Had a quick rain-dodging drink before we ducked into another Indian restaurant. Good to see Bob, and give him a slightly belated birthday card.
After fond farewells at St Pancras at 8:30 found I had just missed a train. The next one was delayed (as was every single First Capital Connect train on my platform) and I didn't get home till 10:40. Flopping wanly on the sofa with Calliope and speaking briefly to a sleepy Lorraine before bed.
Up to Tavistock Square again. Feeling slightly brighter today than of late. Lunch with Pat we walked to a restaurant called the Palms of Goa. Pat full of bounce, and in good spirits. A whiff of sulphur from the restaurant as we approached, and there was Spooner and his art director, and we were soon joined by Bob Nash who first hired me for my old Glamoursmith agency over 10 years ago. Nice to see them, and Spooner always glinting, but the agency gossip seems all a bit remote these days.
After work, still writing the unspeakable haemophilia document, met up with the old Mad dog, between heavy showers, by the dripping statue of Gandhi in the centre of Tavistock Square. Someone had put a little jar with two or three marigolds from the flower bed by his feet. Bob tetchy at first, but soon mellowed. Had a quick rain-dodging drink before we ducked into another Indian restaurant. Good to see Bob, and give him a slightly belated birthday card.
After fond farewells at St Pancras at 8:30 found I had just missed a train. The next one was delayed (as was every single First Capital Connect train on my platform) and I didn't get home till 10:40. Flopping wanly on the sofa with Calliope and speaking briefly to a sleepy Lorraine before bed.
Comments